Cutest Couple
by JustGail
Summary: Ronan Lynch and Adam Parrish get chosen for the cutest couple superlative in their yearbook senior year. Hilarity and angst ensue. WIP, no-magic au, M rated for future content
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Ah, the days of late spring. The sun shining, but not beating down on anybody's neck; the wind blowing, but not causing anyone to shiver; the flowers blooming, but not covering every surface any longer.

Enter: Ronan Lynch, a hurricane.

It was close to the end of the year, and, as per usual, the entire school had voted on the various senior superlatives. Well, Ronan hadn't voted. But many had, and, for whatever reason, they had voted Ronan one-half of "cutest couple" (at least according to Tad). Not only had they voted Ronan (according to word of mouth, that is, Tad's mouth), but they had voted _Adam Parrish_ as the other half.

Ronan didn't want to be voted for any superlative. But had he been voted "least likely to succeed", he'd have at least earned it. Had he been voted "most gay student ever", he'd probably be surprised, but it would make some sliver of sense.

But there was one huge, overbearing problem with the two of them having been voted "cutest couple": _Ronan and Adam weren't dating_.

Sure, they were friends, in the way that people who were friends with the same person were friends. In the way that people who saw each other every day learned to be friends, only to disappear from each other's lives the moment they no longer did. In the I-constantly-belittle-you way. In the I-don't-actually-know-what-to-think-about-you, but-you're-the-other-best-friend-of-my-best-friend-so-I-tolerate-you way.

They definitely, in no way, shape, or form, were not _dating_.

"What is this?" he demanded in front of the first student he happened upon once he stepped determinedly into the yearbook editors' room.

The boy looked up, bewildered. He pushed a lock of red hair out of his eyes. "What's what?"

"I said," Ronan, gritting his teeth, "what is this? That is, is this a clown's office? Have I become the butt of a bad practical joke?"

"I-I'm afraid, ahem," stammered the student, "that I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Adam Parrish and I have been chosen for _cutest couple_?" The venom in Ronan's voice began to draw in more people, and there were now three more students watching the none-spectacle. That is, Ronan was restraining himself from pushing the redhead up a wall and beating the shit out of him. "Parrish and I aren't even a _couple_."

"That's not my fault! We tallied the votes together, and – "

"Well count it _again_!"

"Ahem," said a familiar voice from behind him. Ronan turned around and faced Adam Parrish himself, in all his glory.

"Hey, Parrish," Ronan said, grinning crookedly. "Just sorting out a little problem here. Do you need anything?"

"I'm here to stop you from murdering anyone," Adam said coolly, but Ronan noted his cheeks were flushed, his breathing a little short. Had he run to get here?

"I'm not a murderer."

"Yet. And this isn't worth a fight."

"It's worth getting out of the yearbook. At the very least."

Adam sighed and pinched his nose in frustration. "We were voted in, Lynch. There's nothing we can do about that. Besides, it's _usually_ not a real couple – we're at a _boys' school_."

Ronan hadn't known that last part, but it didn't make the situation easier. He looked around, straightened his jacket, and (somewhat) calmly walked out.

* * *

"Lynch!"

Adam Parrish was not a loud boy. He'd learned long ago that making noise can only draw attention, and he'd learned earlier still that attention only caused trouble. Right now, however, his anger was getting the best of him, and so, as he ran through the courtyard to catch up to Ronan, he was yelling, paying no mind to the ocean of attention he was drawing to himself.

(He often drew attention to himself without meaning to, but more on that later.)

Ronan continued walking, but slowed down to allow Adam to catch up. "What, Parrish?"

"What _was_ that?"

"What was what?"

"That. That thing you did in there."

"I hate lying."

"Nobody actually thinks we're together, Lynch."

"Don't they?"

"No, they don't. Lynch, stop. Where are you even going?"

"To my car," he growled. It was indeed the end of the day, and there was no reason, per se, to stay at school, but usually the two of them waited for Gansey to come along. _Only he isn't here today_ , Adam remembered suddenly. _He's at some sort of_ thing _with his mom, in New York_.

"Okay, but just – " Adam sighed, trying to control his tone. "Do you want to try and get rid of it? We can. But it'll all be bureaucracy and the ilk."

Ronan spared him a glance. " _We_ can?" They were almost at his car.

"I can."

"No, I'll help you. I'm the one who's – " He coughed and switched focus, his hands fumbling at the pockets of his dark jeans. "Fuck yes." He found his keys, unlocked the car, and walked around it to be next to the driver's side's door. Ronan's eyes met Adam's, and they were dark and unforgiving. "Do you need me to give you a ride, Parrish? Why are you still here?"

"No, I drove myself here," Adam said coolly.

Ronan muttered something under his breath that sounded an awful lot like "what a Reese of crash".

"What was that?"

Ronan smiled, and Adam had to suppress a shudder. If that's what Ronan looked like when smiling, Adam never wanted to see him smile again. "Nothing. See you tomorrow, Parrish."

* * *

Adam didn't have work that evening, but all that meant was that he had to do most of his homework for the week tonight; anything big, or important, had to be done in the span of the five hours between him reaching St. Agnes and him falling asleep right where he was sitting. He managed to stay awake long enough to do almost all of it before realizing he had no idea how to do any of the Latin homework. He could, of course, call Ronan, but that would be futile for too many reasons to count; for one, Ronan never answered his phone – he had some sort of aversion to the entire thing. Another reason, of course, was that Ronan might not want to talk to him at all.

Another reason was that he would have to use a payphone, and that was precious pennies, wasted.

He'd made up his mind. If anything, what he was about to do would be worth it simply because he would get help on his Latin; but if he could manipulate the situation correctly… He washed his face, grabbed his keys, and left.

The car ride was shorter than usual; in his tiredness, he wasn't as careful as he usually was. The tri-colored car rattled, the noise keeping him blissfully awake until he realized he was no longer struggling with keeping conscious, now running on adrenaline alone.

The time was too close to midnight, and on the far side of it. This was probably a bad idea.

He parked the car. He opened the door. He climbed up the steps to Monmouth Manufacturing. He knocked. He waited.

The door opened, and on the other side was Ronan, looking… well, as though he hadn't gotten a lick of sleep. Though he clearly was dressed in some sort of pajamas – an old tee and sweatpants, something Adam had never thought he would see – his hair was unruffled, his eyes bright and awake. There was nothing of him that was not extremely aware, and even Adam, who was exhausted beyond words, could feel that innate _awake-ness_. It was magnetic, in its own odd way.

Adam blinked.

"What are you doing here?"

"I needed help with Latin."

"You could have called."

"With what phone? Would you have answered?"

"Probably not," Ronan admitted. He was silent for a moment, then turned around and walked back into the warehouse, leaving the door open. Adam took it as an invitation, stepping in somewhat hesitantly. It felt odd to be in here without Gansey – it felt, actually, somewhat thrilling. Like a new experience, despite the fact that he'd been in Monmouth Manufacturing dozens of times before.

Ronan was sitting on the couch they'd recently brought in from the street; they'd found it just lying outside, and at first, Gansey had offered it to Adam, but it was quickly understood that there was no room for it in the tiny space above St. Agnes. So, instead, Gansey had called a van, and then it was in Monmouth Manufacturing, and it felt as though it belonged there. It was a brown three seater, with a sag in the middle, probably due to excessive sitting and also probably the reason it was thrown out. Fitting two teenage boys living in a giant old factory, as they didn't much care. Blue had been mostly thankful she no longer had to sit on anybody's bed, or on the floor.

"Well?"

Adam realized with a start he'd been staring, and slipped the Latin notebook out of his bag. He sat down in a bit of a hurry, opening to the exercises he couldn't quite do.

It was about half an hour later and far too late – or really, far too early – when Ronan leaned back, and Adam wrote the last letter. Even if he'd had more homework to do, he was so exhausted, he wasn't sure how much he'd be able to accomplish. He looked at Ronan; Ronan was looking at Gansey's bed.

"Do you realize," Ronan began, "how pretentious it is for him to sleep out here? There's a perfectly good extra bedroom nobody uses, and he sleeps out here. It's so fucking stupid."

Adam snickered.

"What? It's true. It's like if I decided I would take a shit in a bucket instead of in the bathroom. Not just any single shit – _every single_ shit. It's crazy. It's ridiculous. It's inconvenient for the rest of us." But Ronan was smiling too now, and soon they were both laughing.

Ronan's face changed when he was smiling like that, like the sun peaking from behind an-ever cloudy sky; you don't expect it to come, but when it does, it's refreshing and revitalizing.

The laughter died after a while, and quietly, Adam began gathering his things. He didn't know how to approach the obvious subject hanging in the air between them, didn't know how to make it any less awkward.

"Thank you," he said instead, "for helping me with the homework. I know you don't really like doing… any sort of work."

"No, I don't," said Ronan. He was looking up at the far-off ceiling, and his voice echoed a bit. "But you're going to help with the whole yearbook business, anyway."

"Right," said Adam. "About that – "

"You're not backing out, are you?" Ronan's voice was sharp, his entire body suddenly tense.

"Of course not." Adam kept his promises.

Visibly relaxing, Ronan rubbed his forehead for a moment before saying hesitantly, "I know you don't usually, but would you like a beer?" He began getting up, groaning lowly when he finally stood.

"No," Adam said, without even thinking. "But you're welcome to go fetch one for yourself."

"Who says _fetch_ , Parrish?" Ronan said easily as he walked away. "Be right back."

Adam watched him go drearily. It was so late, and he was so tired – maybe if he only closed his eyes, just for a moment…

* * *

It was light outside when he woke, and he had a thick, gray blanket planted over him. The light had been what woke him up; he blinked at it, trying to get the last webs of sleep out of his system. What day was it? Was he missing school or a shift?

After a moment, he remembered that it was Saturday. He didn't have to be anywhere till the afternoon. He slowly made his way off of the couch, every part of his body aching as though he hadn't slept properly. (He probably hadn't. What time is it?)

"You're awake," said Ronan. He was leaning casually against the doorframe to his room. "I didn't peg you for a late sleeper."

"What time is it?" Adam asked.

"It's just a bit after ten. There's cereal if you want some. Otherwise, if you'd like some breakfast, you're not gonna find it here." Ronan turned around and reentered his room, shutting the door behind him.

Well.

Slowly, Adam gathered his things, stuffed his books in his bag, and before even five minutes had passed, he was gone.

* * *

 **A/N:** I know what you're saying.

Gail, you can't start a new project now. You're just getting to the juicy bits in OTT! You've been working on that fic for two years!

... Yeah, well, maybe that's the problem. Maybe I need a breath of fresh air.

The stuff I've been working on at OTT have been getting dark and it's _hard_. So I'm moving on. Different fandom. I mean, this fic is going to be slow burn as well, but it's going to be all fluff. Seriously. I swear.

Ok, there's going to be angst, but it's _mostly_ going to be fluff.

Credit goes where credit's due: I'm basing this fic on this post - post/136209714380/auroralynches-please-consider-a-pynch-angrily - and I'm not ashamed.

Seeya next time,

JustGail


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** Don't own blah blah

* * *

Blue Sargent may have been a midget, but she was also a formidable opponent. Ronan had discovered this many months ago when they'd first met; Gansey had hit on her for Adam (that didn't really work out) and she just ripped him a new one. To be fair, Gansey was an idiot. On the other hand, Ronan _knew_ Gansey, and he didn't know her.

He had to be physically restrained by Adam to prevent him attacking her physically right there in the middle of Nino's.

Now, of course, they were friends – or on the way to being friends. Ronan wasn't quite sure what to make of her, but that was okay. He didn't know what to make of Adam either.

The problem was, she was constantly distracting both Adam and Gansey. Adam, until just a couple weeks ago, had been dating her. Gansey was distracted by her because the poor fool couldn't take his eyes off her, but if he wouldn't do anything about it, Ronan wouldn't encourage him.

It was odd, though, how she seemed to be magnetic even to him. (He didn't like lamps.) She was pretty fun to be around, actually (though you would not be able to get him to admit it). Which is why, when she came around even though Gansey wasn't there, he let her stay.

"Adam said he'd come by after his shift," she explained as she took her helmet off. "I'm mostly waiting here for him."

"It's fine," Ronan said.

Then they sat in silence for a bit. Him on the one side of the couch, she on the far end.

"I heard about the whole yearbook thing," Blue offered. "It's actually going around _my_ school."

Ronan shifted but didn't say anything.

"May I make a suggestion?"

"No."

"Why don't you just let it be?"

"Because it's a _lie_." It was the truth, if only a part of it.

Ronan guessed Blue didn't have anything to say to that, because she got up and went to the kitchen/bathroom. She came back a couple minutes later. "You know," she said, "you could probably break into the office, check the votes yourself."

Ronan raised an eyebrow at her.

"You know, to see if you really did win 'cutest couple'. Just to have a basis to work on. You can't move on if you're always doubting your footing."

"That makes no sense."

"Yes, it does." Blue held eye contact with him for a few more seconds before turning away. "I think I'll head home after all," she said. "Give Adam my best."

* * *

"This is a terrible idea."

"That," Ronan said, pointing at him in an accusatory manner, "is exactly what I said. _You_ suggested we give it a try."

Adam looked at him, but Ronan didn't know what to make of it. "Well, I changed my mind. This is a horrible idea and we should head back and knock some sense into Blue for having suggested it."

"We're already here, aren't we?" Ronan said. They were, in fact, standing right outside the office Ronan had so rudely barged into only a couple days ago. They had broken into the school – a surprisingly easy feat – but not into the yearbook editors' office quite yet. The building felt different at night, calmer, as if it was preparing itself for the students who would come rushing back in only a few hours.

Adam sighed. "Fine. Open it."

Ronan opened the door and stepped it.

He may have neglected to tell Adam that there was no need to _break in_ , per se, to this specific office. Someone had lost the key years ago and due to bureaucracy and general laziness had never gotten another one.

Ronan could _feel_ Adam rolling his eyes as he followed him inside. They searched silently for the ballots, a task that took only a couple short minutes but felt like forever. It was Adam who said in his calm voice: "Her they are," and Ronan rushed to his side to help him unload.

The very first one said that their choice for cutest couple was, in fact, Ronan and Adam.

They looked at each other, split the pile, and got to counting. By the end, there was little doubt; Ronan and Adam were almost unanimously voted cutest couple.

Ronan groaned and leaned back. "This is…"

"Actually sort of funny?" Adam suggested.

Ronan glared at him. "A nightmare."

Adam stood, gathered the pieces of paper and put them back in the cabinet where they'd found them. If they had been sorted according to a system, it'd been lost. Ronan was still glaring at him when he realized Adam's hand was now offered to him, giving him the chance to hold onto him as he got up.

It took him only a second to decide to ignore the offer. He was standing before Adam had even blinked. "Let's go," he said gruffly.

(He only glanced at Adam's hands once on the way out.)

* * *

Adam was a bit disappointed to be back at St. Agnes' so quickly. The car ride had been quiet, and as Ronan glided smoothly into the St. Agnes' parking lot, it occurred to him that it wasn't because there wasn't anything to say.

"Thank you," he said, unable to express what was actually going on in his mind at the moment – unable to process it in the first place. It was all very sudden, actually.

"Welcome." Ronan tapped the steering wheel, then looked at Adam for what was probably less than half a second. "You going up, or what?"

"When's Gansey coming back?"

"Friday. Now, are you going to leave this car? I want to get home too, you know."

Adam could tell he was really, really ready to leave, but he ignored it and asked: "Are you lonely?"

"Is this a therapy session, Parrish?"

"I'm just asking a question."

"That isn't just a question."

"Why is this yearbook thing so important to you?"

"Because it's a _lie_ ," Ronan said, sounding exasperated – as if Adam should have known already. He had a point – this was Ronan, after all, and if Ronan couldn't stand something, it was lying.

"Is that the only reason?" Adam asked, carefully studying Ronan's features.

But if they were hiding anything, they betrayed nothing. "Yes, Parrish."

"Okay," he said, "then we should take it to the principle. Together. Or we can wait for Gansey – he's coming back in four days, isn't he? He can sweet talk his way into them getting it removed. Or – "

"Yes, yeah, okay, Jesus, Parrish," Ronan said. "We'll wait for Gansey. Are you going to ever actually exit this car?"

Adam nodded and opened the door. He climbed out of the fancy vehicle but before he closed the door he leaned in so he was almost at Ronan's ear.

"You're welcome," he muttered, and then he backed out quickly and slammed the door.

* * *

Adam Parrish's hands were all over him, and he was on fire.

The kiss was long and deep, and he pushed Adam down so he could lean over him. They broke apart, panting, Adam's eyes so bright and alive and looking straight at him. He could feel Adam's breath on his skin, but then his skin was literally fire, and Adam's eyes were not bright and alive but horror-filled, the red flame reflecting in his irises.

"Adam," he gasped, reaching out for him, but he was already pulling away.

Ronan woke, panting, sweaty. He stared at the ceiling, counted to five, flipped to the other side and tried to get back to sleep.

* * *

 **A/N:** Fuck my life. My computer up and died on me two weeks ago, and I only just got it back two days ago. But, you know, this chapter's out there now, right? So... enjoy.

JustGail


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"You look terrible," Adam said. Ronan grimaced at him and dropped into his chair. He wasn't wrong, but he was a little late to point it out; the last couple days Ronan's appearance was getting steadily worse. Adam was pretty sure he wasn't sleeping, and only semi-sure whether he had showered – he didn't _stink_ , but he didn't look particularly well kempt. "Are you even sleeping?"

"Do you really care, or are you making the worst small talk ever?" Ronan said, closing his eyes.

Adam bit his tongue, the truth fighting to get free. Instead, he said, "Do you ever try to be anything else?"

"You mean a lie?"

"I mean not an asshole."

Ronan smirked. "So you mean lie."

Adam exhaled in frustration. "Whatever, Lynch." He sat straighter in his chair, waiting for anybody else to step in the door. They were both a bit early; Adam was always early, and Ronan – well, Ronan was only really interested – if you could even call it that – in one thing at school, and that was Latin, AKA their very first period of the day. It was not even a minute when Adam decided to ask what he was thinking anyway, consequences be damned: " _Why_ do you look like you haven't been sleeping?"

"Because I haven't been sleeping," Ronan replied easily, just as the bell rang. The students began pouring in, and Adam was left to wonder what the hell was going on.

Tuesdays Adam didn't share any other classes with Ronan, and he had a couple shifts at the garage after school, so he didn't have any opportunities to inquire further that day. Wednesday, however, Adam caught Ronan before they had even entered the school. He sized him quickly, seeing that he fared no better than Monday or Tuesday, and said: "That's it. Whatever's going on, get over it. If you want me to help you with this stupid yearbook thing – if you want me to talk _Gansey_ into helping us with this stupid yearbook thing – _get your act together_. And do it _before_ Gansey's back tomorrow afternoon. You got it?"

Ronan's gaze met his, but Adam couldn't read it. "Do you understand me, Ronan, yes or no?"

"Yes, Parrish, I'll be a good obedient boy," Ronan replied dryly, his eyes wandering.

Adam stepped back, letting him pass by him; Ronan bumped into him with his shoulder, possibly intending to hurt him. If he did, anyway, he did a bad job of it – it passed so fast and so lightly, it might as well have not happened at all.

* * *

Adam had work that afternoon, so he headed there after school. By the end of his shift it was dark outside, and he was so tired he would have probably collapsed in his car, if it weren't very inadvisable. (Blue was not the only person who could be sensible.) It seemed as though it would take hours for him to get him, but by the time he did, he couldn't remember any of the drive.

He was oh so tired, but the moment he saw Ronan Lynch sitting on his steps, he was suddenly wide awake. Ronan was not something one should be anything less than fully aware of; every part of him screamed _danger_.

"What are you doing here?" Adam said, pushing past him to unlock the door of the apartment. Briefly, he remembered the incident that caused him to need to get this tiny room in the first place; but that memory was full of confusing feelings and blurry memories of fists, and he pushed it aside.

The two of them stepped in together before Ronan had even finished saying: "Hello to you too." But Adam was not feeling particularly polite. (He was feeling something else entirely, but he didn't have a name for it yet.) He did not respond. Instead, he dropped his bags on the floor unceremoniously and fell on his back, the bed cushioning his fall. Of course, the mattress was about as soft as the floorboards, but this is what he had – this is what he had, and it was his.

It was suddenly very hard to keep his eyes anywhere but on Ronan.

"You're very talkative today," Ronan commented.

"The last time we talked," Adam said, "it ended on a sour note. Forgive me if I'd rather sleep than fight."

"You asked what – " Ronan made a choking sound, as if it was physically difficult for him to say whatever it was he was thinking. "You asked what my problem was."

"Yes, I did," Adam said slowly, not seeing where this was going. "Again, I would really – "

"No, just please – please," Ronan said, a hint of desperation in his voice. "I just – I need to explain."

"Are you drunk?"

"No, I'm not drunk, shut up," Ronan said. He really didn't seem to be drunk, but none of this was like him. "I'm trying to tell you something, and you're – you're so fucking annoying. You're making this even more difficult then it already is."

Adam stayed silent this time.

"I'm – shit. Okay. I'm fucking gay, alright?"

A beat.

"Adam?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you have anything to say to that?"

Adam shrugged. "I already knew."

"Wait, what?"

"I already knew. It was pretty obvious."

Ronan blinked at him, shocked into silence.

"But thanks for trusting me, I guess."

"Does Gansey know?"

Adam let out a breathy laugh. "I haven't really discussed it with him. He wouldn't really get it."

Ronan folded his arms. "And you would?"

Adam shrugged noncommittally. He didn't particularly want to discuss his sexuality at the moment. What he did want was to sleep, and he said as much.

Ronan raised his hands and took a step back. "Fine, whatever. You can fucking go to sleep. I'll just go back to Monmouth."

Adam fully intended to let him go, really. But then he thought of Ronan, sleeping there all alone, every night, and –

"You can stay here, if you want."

"Yeah?" Ronan said, raising an eyebrow. "Where am I gonna sleep?"

He wasn't going to fight him about this. Thank _God_. "On the floor. I'll give you my extra blanket."

Ronan considered it for a second, then nodded once.

Well. This was going to be something.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"If you're gay, why do you care so much about this yearbook thing?" Adam asked. Ronan was driving both of them to school, because he could, mostly.

He also wanted to, but that was something he would probably never say out loud.

Last night was a mistake.

He had already _answered_ this question.

"I told you," he said, and he couldn't keep the irritation out of his voice. "It's a lie."

"So it's about _me_?" Adam asked, and Ronan immediately huffed.

" _No_ ," Ronan said. "It's that we're not a _we_."

Ronan could feel Adam's eyes burning on his skin but didn't match his gaze. Adam could do whatever he wanted with that information. It didn't matter.

"Okay," Adam said, _finally_ , his tone unfamiliar to Ronan, thick with something he didn't – couldn't – recognize. "I'll go talk to Whittaker. See if he can't bend the rules a little."

Whittaker? Ronan wasn't even going to ask, but Adam read the confusion on his face. "Whittaker's the guy you nearly choked to death, Lynch," he said, sighing deeply. "I figured you'd know that before you tried to kill him."

Ronan shrugged as he pulled in to the parking lot, full of ever more fancier cars. "Wasn't really relevant."

"No, I guess it wasn't," Adam said, and the strange tone was gone from his voice. Ronan found himself longing for it, almost desperate.

That, at least, Adam couldn't seem to read.

* * *

Picture this: Latin classroom, full of elitist, richborn boys, all relatively handsome, all used to being the center of attention until the very moment they stepped on school grounds. The classroom itself is filled with shelves of expensive looking volumes, expensive looking chairs, expensive looking tables, expensive looking everything. From the window one could glance at the fancy looking architecture of the rest of the school, though one could simply look at the arches imbedded in the design of the classroom to see how it screamed of riches and grandeur. This was the norm in Aglionby.

Enter: Adam Parrish, a rare diamond.

How was it that of all the supposed rubies in this room, it was Adam Parrish, walking into class just as the bell rings with his face flushed, screaming of poverty and simplicity and scantiness, was the one to shine the brightest?

It was a thought shared by many, usually most importantly by Ronan Lynch. But right now, it mattered more that when Adam leaned over to Ronan to whisper something to him, he was being watched by someone else.

"What's going on?" that person said, coming over at the end of class and flashing his million dollar smile.

"Hello, Tad," said Adam politely. "It's all good. I was just giving Ronan some good news."

Well, sorta. Ronan might have been adamant on getting rid of their status as _cutest couple_ before it had actually happened, but now that they'd succeeded he didn't actually know what it was he felt.

"That's great, so listen, I heard that you've gotten rid of that pesky superlative," Tad said, still smiling. It was not attractive.

"I'm not sure how you heard about it, considering it happened about five minutes before class began, but yeah, that's true," Adam said.

"Good, good… so listen, I was wondering – you know that end of year party Henry Cheng is throwing?" He waited for Adam to nod before continuing, "Are you going?"

"Wasn't planning on it, no," Adam said.

At that, Tad's eerie smile finally faltered. Ronan felt a great satisfaction from that fact. "Are you sure?"

Adam nodded again.

"Oh. Okay. Well, if you reconsider – and you really _should_ come – you should probably tell me."

"I'm not coming," Adam reminded him. Ronan stopped himself from snorting.

"Right, sure," Tad nodded vigorously. "See ya."

And he basically ran off.

* * *

"So, Tad – what was _that_ about?" Adam wondered aloud later, in Ronan's car. He glanced at Ronan, trying to read him. He looked like he was trying very hard not to laugh. Adam frowned. "What is it?"

"It's just funny how oblivious you are," Ronan said, but didn't elaborate, even when pushed and prodded – at least, not until they reached St. Agnes.

"He was hitting on you," Ronan told him as he parked the car. "He was terrible at it, admittedly, but that was still what he was doing. He was trying to ask you out."

Adam was, to say the least, surprised. "Huh," he said.

"Guess he thought that you were no longer taken or something like that," Ronan said dismissively. "Probably missed the part where you aren't gay."

And suddenly, Adam really wanted to make sure Ronan knew the exact truth. "Even if I'd realized what was going on, I would've said no. But because Tad's an idiot… _Not_ because I'm not… into guys."

Ronan looked extremely surprised, to say the least. Adam felt at least a bit smug because of it. Ronan, the ever watchful, had somehow missed this.

"I'm bi," he clarified. Then, he gathered his things and opened the car door. He was stepping out when he realized Ronan wasn't following him out. "Are you coming?"

* * *

Ronan must've stepped up the steps to Adam's apartment, but he couldn't actually remember doing it. He must've sat down and watched Adam do his homework for hours, must've retorted when he was pushed to do his own, but he couldn't remember doing any of it. It was only much later, when Adam sighed and closed his notebooks and pushed them aside, when he turned to Ronan and said: "Have you recovered yet?", that he finally regained actual consciousness again.

"Shut up," he replied casually, realizing that he had. "How long have you known?"

"That I'm bi?" Adam considered. "A while."

"Great," Ronan said. "Great. Don't you just know everything."

"Less time than I knew you were gay," Adam said.

"How long have you known _that_?" Ronan asked.

Adam looked at him as if doubting his sanity. "Kavinsky."

Ah yes. The maniac who had been, for a while there, Ronan's only escape from himself. Before, that is, he committed suicide.

That had been a bummer, to say the least.

"Shit, Parrish."

Adam stood and walked to the bed, where Ronan was sitting. He made room for Adam, who sat down.

"Any more secrets?" Ronan asked. Adam shook his head, _no_. "Me neither."

"That's good," Adam said, and he was very, very close. Then he was even closer, and Ronan's eyelids fluttered shut as their lips touched, very, very softly.

And for just that one moment, Ronan, a human hurricane, was calm.

* * *

 **A/N** : Next chapter is an epilogue. Woohoo!


	5. Epilogue

Epilogue

It was a Sunday, and they were sitting in the small apartment above St. Agnes, doing things that were probably inappropriate for hallowed ground, but they were also teenaged boys, and they didn't particularly care.

Then a phone rang.

"Ignore it," Ronan mumbled, pulling Adam closer. His disdain for cellphones was well known. "Just ignore it. Let it ring."

They did. It stopped ringing, and immediately started ringing again.

Adam reached for Ronan's cellphone.

"No, no," Ronan groaned, but it was too late. Both of them had already seen the caller ID, seen it was one Declan Lynch.

"Answer it," Adam said, "it might be important."

"Or," Ronan retorted, "it might be him calling to lecture me about not going to college, _again_. Which is far more likely."

"Answer it," Adam said, "and I'll make it up to you."

Ronan had no idea what that meant, but he answered it immediately. "What?" he said into the receiver, but he missed Declan's answer, because Adam was pulling Ronan's pants down.

He blinked.

Yep. Adam was definitely pulling his pants down. And then his underpants, as well.

Glancing up and seeing his shock, Adam put a single finger to his lips, and then –

"Yep, u-huh. I know. Shit! No, not at you. It's just – nothing. Go on."

Ronan had literally no idea what Declan was saying. He had no idea a tongue could even do anything like that, and even less that _Adam_ knew how to do that until that very second. "Just a moment," he said. He moved his phone away and put his hand on the receiver so he could groan. "You could ha - ha - have warned me," he said, breathlessly. Adam raised a single eyebrow and motioned toward the phone, then returned to his previous task.

Jesus fucking Christ.

* * *

Time passed. Gansey came home the very next day; he was only somewhat surprised when he walked into Monmouth to find Ronan and Adam holding hands, watching something cheesy Adam had never had the time to watch before.

( _"Are you saying_ _you_ _knew as well?" Ronan cried out. It was pretty fucking hilarious._ )

Then it was graduation. Summer had rolled around, and then Adam was heading off to college in just two months. (So were Gansey and Blue, but that was beside the point.)

"I'll be back to visit," Adam promised, when Ronan brought it up faux-casually. "And you'll drive up too, won't you?"

And Ronan may have kissed the answer instead of saying it outright, but Adam understood anyway.

* * *

So listen. I could tell you about a million things that happened that summer. Things involving butterfly catching. Things involving first times. Things involving smiling and smirking and making pancakes.

Those might all be the same thing. Or they might not. But since I'm not telling you about them anyway, it doesn't really matter, does it?

The important part, like in any love story, is this:

They lived happily ever after,

The end.

* * *

 **A/N:** Look how much fluff. This was seriously hard for me to write without at least some angst, but let's be honest here - TRK is coming out later this very week. I think that's enough angst for all of us.

See you on the other side of Gansey NOT DYING,

JustGail


End file.
